Total pages in book: 22
Estimated words: 19919 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 100(@200wpm)___ 80(@250wpm)___ 66(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 19919 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 100(@200wpm)___ 80(@250wpm)___ 66(@300wpm)
Winston snorts. An honest to God snort leaves his little mouth as though he’s heard my comment and is very unamused. Jasper reaches down to give his trusty fluffball a reassuring pat. “Oh, he’s actually a genius covertly masquerading as a loaf.”
“Could’ve fooled me,” I joke, shaking my head as I start to sift through the usual junk mail and bills. Nothing too exciting there.
“Hey, if you want to escape to the realm of the living this weekend, I’m hosting a little gathering,” Jasper offers, leaning on the fence. I pause and blink for a moment. My weekends usually consist of recovering from the busy week before.
“I’ll see what I can do,” I tell him and watch as he shuffles his way back toward his front door, a thought nudging my mind. I can’t help but let curiosity get the better of me, so I call out, “What’s the occasion for the party?”
He turns back to face me, a grin playing on his lips as if he was waiting for me to ask. Winston seems momentarily distracted by a flying bug, allowing us a rare moment of peace. “Ah, it’s nothing too extravagant,” Jasper replies, leaning casually against the fence. “My niece, Remi, is moving in with me for a little while.”
I blink in surprise, my eyebrows lifting in unison. “Niece?” I repeat, trying to wrap my head around this new development. “I didn’t even know you had a niece.”
Jasper chuckles, the ease never leaving his demeanor. “Yep, Remi. She’s been living the big city life for a while, and now she’s decided to try something new.”
I shift a little on my throbbing feet. “So, she’s coming here to, what, enjoy suburban bliss?” I joke, glancing at my brownish lawn and the perfectly trimmed hedges of our little neighborhood.
“Well, more to keep an eye on her aging uncle, as I’m told,” he replies, a playful glint in his eye. “Apparently, moving in with me makes sure I remember to not skip meals or something equally tragic.”
“Ah, she’s coming to keep you in line,” I tease, crossing my arms. “And here I thought you had everything under control with Winston as your trusty sidekick.”
Jasper laughs, adjusting his straw hat like he’s just adjusted his crown. “Winston’s a great alarm system, but not much help when it comes to finding where I left my glasses or whether I paid the electric bill. Since she works from home, designing websites or some techy thing like that, she can do her job anywhere.”
“It’s great she’s able to come live with you.”
Jasper snorts, shaking his head. “I’m hoping she gets her ass moving and finds herself a man while she’s at it. She’s so goddamn picky; she’s become an old-maid.”
“Picky isn’t such a bad quality,” I assure him. “Better than diving in with both feet only to discover you’re wading in a swamp.”
“Anything is better than nothing when you’re getting up there in age and there aren’t many prospects on the horizon,” he tells me, and I suddenly envision a middle-aged female version of Jasper.
What do I say to that? “I hope that works out,” I improvise, leaning against the mailbox.
“Me too.” Jasper sighs, raising his hands in mock horror. “But she’s game to try a slower pace of life, and I could use the company. Finding her a man is low on the agenda.”
Jasper gives me a mock salute before retreating inside with Winston at his heels. The door closes with a soft click, leaving me alone with the warm, evening autumn breeze, and my thoughts about this mysterious niece who’s about to shake up our neighborhood scene.
As I walk back up my driveway, I feel a sense of anticipation for the weekend. Maybe this party will be more than just a gathering. You never know, it could be the start of something a lot more interesting around here.
Exhaustion cuts through me as I cruise down the tree-lined road leading to my house. The dappled sunlight filtering through the leaves casts shadows on the asphalt. I’m just trying to make it home for lunch when something further down the road catches my eye. A woman is walking down the street, blonde hair blowing slightly in the gentle breeze, the kind of hair that seems to shimmer in the sunlight like it’s been filtered through a magazine. What surprises the hell out of me is she’s walking Winston.
The notoriously yappy and hyper little dog usually races around like he’s just downed a gallon of coffee, so seeing him behaving like a perfect little gentleman at the end of a leash raises my eyebrows. My curiosity piqued, I figure I should stop and see why a stranger is walking my elderly neighbor’s dog.
So, I pull over, the tires crunching on the gravel of the shoulder, and roll down the window. “Excuse me,” I call out, trying to sound friendly, but I’m not sure if I nail it. The exhaustion weighing me down causes the words to come out more like I’m asking someone to account for their life choices. “Who are you?”